Unfortunate Implications
by FashionistState
Summary: Jeremy Goode encounters all his past lovers at once. Crosses over with BBC Sherlock, Black Books and Portal. Not to be taken seriously under any circumstances. Contains slash pairings and is rated T for moderate language and a few sexual references.


_Note: And THIS is my lame little attempt at humour! Er, kind of. This actually started out as a crackfic with drama tacked onto it, but I soon realized that was a very bad idea because I cannot write romance or betrayal or romance involving betrayal, at least with the following characters. Anyway, please excuse any characterization issues as most of them will have been created with entertainment in mind. I guess. Thanks for reading, and with some luck you'll actually enjoy this thing. (And I apologize for any odd spacing. The word-document appears to have uploaded a bit oddly; I have no idea if that'll affect anything after publishing.)_

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><p>"As much as this is possibly the worst idea ever conceived... I think I'm in love, Jeremy."<p>

"I would have to agree on both points," but_ really? _Love? Why would such a brilliant man want a perfectly normal person like Jeremy? It was bizarre. Their intellects contrasted so greatly, while in any other case he would be considered of 'above-average intelligence'. But he didn't mind his 'love's superiority at all. "In all honesty, you've felt like my voice of reason for quite a while now." And in fact, Jeremy hadn't seen the Silent Singer since they last met. He was his cure.

"Given the look of you it's no surprise. But something's still wrong," Sherlock told him, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at Jeremy's face, his perfect face, made only more adorable by that twitch of his eyelid every so often. But Sherlock knew that was just more proof he was worried. People with ease of mind didn't have eye-twitches as noticeable as Jeremy's. He was doubting something. Trying to cogitate harder than his mind could handle. But unlike most of the folk he saw attempt to do such a preposterous thing as _thinking, _Sherlock felt sorry for him. He finally elaborated, "You're doubting things, because of partners from the past. You knew to approach this situation with hope because you think I'm different to the others. But you _also_ know that with an ounce of rationality, you'd realize I'm not." Sherlock pouted. (Though, wasn't it normally Jeremy that did the pouting?) "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Maybe you're right. But I doubt that even doubt itself would stop me from trying."

"That's the spirit! For a moment there I thought you were going _boring_—"

Just as Sherlock went to lean a tad closer, the front door abruptly flew open, hitting the nearest wall in the process and, if I might digress, making quite nice reverb which was sadly blocked by the sheer thickness of the unattractive wallpaper. The couple's heads spun in the direction of the hallway as a short dark-haired man stormed in, stumbling over one or two books as he went. "Dear god, I knew it! Who's _this?_" The man motioned to Sherlock as if he was an intergalactic specimen. The consulting detective returned an unsurprised stare, aware that this must have been the thousand and fifty-fifth time that someone treated him like an alien.

"Look, I can explain. Really, I can," Jeremy started, unconvinced of that statement.

Sherlock was now eyeing his partner with a great degree of suspicion, but exhaled an aggravated sigh, "No, no, _stupid_! Of course I knew you were seeing other people. I wouldn't have called this a bad idea if I didn't."

"But I'm not. That's the most... ridiculous thing about this; I _left _Winston. Two days ago, actually," Jeremy replied with an unimpressed sideways glance to the irate intruder who seemed to have the slightest constant shiver, condescendingly adding, "Don't you ever find the time to check your answering machine?"

"Oh, so you could predict we were both going to confess our love today, could you?"

"No! Things just weren't working out." Jeremy wasn't sure _if _things weren't 'working out'. It was a snap decision. Out of pity he had ushered Winston back into the recesses of near-sanity that he currently occupied himself, but when they both had the intent of making their relationship something more, it turned out to be rather detrimental on Jeremy's mental health. Truth was, Winston just reminded him of... well, him.

"I thought I could trust you. _You_ found me that Schubert biography. But no," Winston whined with an angered eye-roll, "Y-y-you're just like all the rest!"

"Actually," a deep voice echoed, "compared to the rest of the room's company, it appears our librarian friend is the odd one out." A second man appeared on the seat Winston was just about to take, revealing the voice to belong to Sasha Nein.

"Sasha? You as well?" It had to be today, didn't it? When _all _his ex-lovers decided to pay a visit. They'd probably been planning it for months, or at least, he quite liked to think of it like that; like he was worth that much. Jeremy could feel a hallucination coming on.

"Well, you were perfectly aware I have the capacity to stay invisible for hours. And as much as I would never_ ever _do something like this otherwise..." The lenses of Sasha's shades widened, as if to compensate for his obscured eyes. "Surely this proves—"

"Proves _what_, exactly?" a second anonymous intonation called as a scruffy lab-coated fellow prised the window open and stepped through understatedly. "Well?"

The single marginally uncomfortable sofa was now occupied by Winston, Jeremy and Sherlock, the latter of whom decided to speak after a long silence. "I'd say he was about to admit he still loved Jeremy."

"Sasha. Doug. Winston. It's over," Jeremy said, standing to peer around the room. "And you're all intelligent enough people to understand that."

"But why do you tell me _here_? Why _now_? You said you'd wait for me!" Doug accused.

Now, unlike most of the ex-lovers that were gathered here today, Doug and Jeremy went a long way back. Doug had come over to England to study for a year; the year which also happened to be Jeremy's last year in university. Discovering that nobody else wanted to talk to them, the two made an awkward friendship, which grew into something a bit more, as it always goes. They were both secretive about their true feelings, but it was Jeremy that made the first move - just one day before Doug was offered a job with Aperture Science, as fate would have it - and while they stayed close for some time, Doug had eventually become so 'enamoured' with his work that they lost contact. The last thing Jeremy received from Rattmann was a scrap of note-paper featuring the lovely gift of several lines of near-illegible, paraphrased famous poetry and a picture of a cube. He just assumed it meant the relationship was over.

"To be fair, you'rethe one that decided to attempt sexual intercourse with an inanimate object that _clearly _wasn't built for the act."

"Doug? You did _that_?"

"That was only once, and I was drunk! But how did you—" Doug cut himself off and came to the first conclusion he always thought of. "Are you working for _her_?"

"Not at all, if you refer to the AI that went a little wrong. I'm afraid I'm not in a position to disclose precisely who I work for," Sasha replied, with a tone as close to arrogance as he could manage, "But I can assure you that detail is not important."

Sasha Nein and Jeremy Goode. Sasha Nein and Jeremy Goode. An odd couple – albeit with highly similar interests, it all began when Sasha was investigating a case of psychic misconduct that brought him to Brooke Street – mere weeks after Jeremy had been released from Ravenhill. Due to the involvement of Edwina Kenchington in one of her less well-advised ventures, Jeremy was singled out as a suspect, and therefore Sasha was ordered to investigate his mind-space in the hopes of finding some evidence. But all he found were Freudian excuses, scientific equations and an oddly-shaped personal demon, none of them pointing to _anything _of use. But still, given Jeremy's objections to Nein entering his mind – not to mention his rather blatant suspicion that his 'psychic powers' were all a sham – it was only polite to beat the shit out of the Silent Singer and reduce its effects, though he couldn't cure its appearances forever. And Jeremy's response? Well, he could never thank the agent enough!

So he offered to buy him dinner, unsure of what else he could do... and as it turned out, the meal was the perfect choice. They both ate very little, as per normal for them (Jeremy had lessened his eating habit during his time in Ravenhill due to the questionable nature of the meals' sources, and he'd never really gotten out of the paranoia that his next meal would cause some hideous unstoppable nosebleed, as witnessed on some of his fellow patients)... but they noticed they had a _lot _in common. Curiously enough, _Sasha _was the one to announce his love (it has to be said that he had consumed quite a bit of alcohol at the time, but that didn't stop him from stating something and meaning it) after being informed that he might have to stay here for several more months. That fell through shortly, unfortunate as it was for Jeremy; Agent Nein found a lead back in America, and he left his partner quite doubtful of the relationship lasting across continents. They never spoke for years, but the relationship only 'truly' ended when Jeremy became aware of the one thing Sasha never told him about. His cure wasn't made to last.

"I know what detail _would _be important. You're the reason I held a dog to ransom over an overdue book."

"I'm afraid that was nothing but your own doing."

"Just... forget it. Now, would anyone care to enlighten me on why you're all here? Anyone at all?"

"I thought you'd have worked it out by now," Sherlock answered, his fingers pressed together and his face adopting a calm, satisfied expression.

"Actually, no. Well?"

"None of them know."

"_What?_"

"Isn't it obvious? They're here because they wanted to pay a visit. Their clothes make that evident immediately."

"I'm here on business, actually," Sasha said, "and Doug started our case to begin with. Realizing we both shared a connection with a certain Jeremy Goode, we decided to stop by if nothing urgent had come up. We then found Winston, about to stop by with a gift, but told him not to bother. Some sources told us about _you_, Sherlock."

"I... see. And does any of this make any sense whatsoever?"

Doug smiled a mad smile and replied, "None at all, actually!"

"You see, this is one of those situations written by an incredibly bored person who _thinks _that nonsense will excuse a lacking in plot and add a self-conscious layer of humour. But on this count, they're incredibly wrong," Sasha explained.

"But t-that's not why we're here. Is it?" Winston hissed, to his ex-lover.

"Unfortunately, it's painfully obvious he _doesn't _know why they're here. None of them even had a plan! Just apologize and maybe they'll go away."

"Look... I'm sorry if you – any of you - were scarred by the things I've done. _Whatever _I've done to offend you. But... everyone gets hurt from time to time. And over something like love? Just move on and leave me be."

An awkward pause. Sherlock sat in a mild sulk over Jeremy's words. Did this mean that Sherlock meant nothing to him?

He then looked up. "Well, I always find silence hateful. Don't you? Why don't we sort all this angst out with a _massive orgy_?"

His phrase only fed the silence.

"Or... perhaps not... though I could see if social norms didn't stop you all from saying anything, you would almost certainly agree. Just... putting that out there..."

Precisely what happened after this point was nowhere to be found on record, though it was fairly certain that it did _not _involve any of Sherlock's suggestions.

**THE END.**


End file.
